40 Words for Sorrow

originally posted: 04/22/02

Brought to you by Skeeter, who just finished reading a novel by the samename.

Despite its being Monday, I can't think of 40 words for sorrow this morning. After such a pleasant weekend as I had, I'd be hard-pressed to come up with half a dozen. I spent Friday evening doing one of my favorite things, T'ai Chi, and afterward toured the studio of a highly regarded stained glass artist, Michael Pilla, www.mfpilla.com/index.html . He thinks of someone who makes sculptures of metal, then inserts glass in the colors and positions that will make the best use of sunlight as it changes angles throughout the day. Although he had several small pieces on display in the studio, my favorite was something he considers scrap art. One of his helpers, perhaps his wife, had removed the slats from an old wooden shutter and replaced them with slats of leftover glass from various other projects. Think of this shutter on an east-facing window, rays of light striking a different color every few minutes as the sun climbs higher and higher in the sky: a chromatic sundial. Simple, yet ever so elegant, as is the rest of this artist's work.

Saturday was a lovely day that I again spent doing enjoyable things: T'ai Chi and related activities in the first half of the day, home chores in the second half. One doesn't usually think of chores as being enjoyable, but with a house as small as Sensational Acres, I don't have to spend much time dusting or tidying to achieve satisfying results. I even did some yardwork before retiring indoors for phone calls and reading.

It's a good thing I did the raking on Saturday, because it snowed all day Sunday. All day. I made the best use of indoor time by doing more T'ai Chi (imagine that!), then stopping at the furniture store to bespeak a corner cabinet for my TV. This purchase is an early birthday present to myself, part of my spring plan to spruce up Sensational Acres. I spent the rest of the day reading, amusing the cats and cooking - really!

So I can't think of 40 words for sorrow. I don't have time. I hope you don't, either.